Roxxy's
by practicalamanda
Summary: Tasked with the unpleasant job of acquiring settlement contracts from several businesses so that Vogue can build new offices, Kurt stumbles upon Roxxy's, a thrift store for drag queens. While there he meets Blaine "Devon" Anderson, a gorgeous man and an even more gorgeous queen, who might just teach him a thing or two about what's really important. DragQueen!Blaine.
1. Chapter 1

This story was completed as part of the Kurt/Blaine Reverse Bang. The beautiful art for this piece was drawn by the amazing Munchingonzebras and will be linked in the final part as it contains spoilers. Huge, enormous props go to Sylvia and Kellyjo562 for their help in making this story come to fruition. They were both incredible betas, so all mistakes are exclusively my fault. I have also had the help from a few other lovely people at some point or another in the process of this story, and I will do a more complete thank you in the end! The story is completed and it will be posted in five chunks.

**Day One: New York, NY 2021**

"I guess this is the place," Kurt mumbled to himself, staring at the flashy storefront. The shop was small, but the trappings were ostentatious in a way that made it appear much larger than it actually was. A sign on the door read _Roxxy's Closet_ in loopy purple lettering, the tag line underneath made Kurt chuckle: 'you're born naked, and the rest is drag!'

Not for the first time, Kurt felt a twinge of guilt at what he was about to do, but he didn't allow himself to think on it for more than a moment. He had worked too long and too hard to get where he was today to let himself go soft when he had a job to do. Working for _Vogue _had been a goal of his practically since his father bought him that first pair of 'sensible heels' for his third birthday. Getting an internship for when he first moved to the city was a dream come true, and his brand new position as the assistant to the Chief of Design was practically a miracle.

He had only been working there for a few weeks when he was called into his boss's office to receive his next big project.

"_Mr. Hummel, please take a seat," Jane Samuels said tersely, gesturing to the high backed chair on the other side of her desk. She was a creative genius in Kurt's opinion, but she was stern in a way that most artists weren't. It was certainly a change from the motherly exuberance of Isabelle, Kurt's former supervisor, but if Kurt was serious about making a career for himself at _Vogue _the choice to take the promotion wasn't really a choice at all. "I heard reports that your work on the winter spread was satisfactory," she said. Kurt had quickly come to realize that this was practically a glowing compliment coming from her._

"_Thank you, Ms. Samuels. I enjoyed the work," Kurt replied politely._

_The woman nodded, and shuffled a few paper's on her desk, "The next project I need to you to work on is of another sort entirely," she began. "As you know, we're expanding and moving to an office complex further down town. There isn't much there now, just a few freelancers and small shops. Obviously we will pay handsomely to get them to move. The building owner is fully on board, and as most of the lease agreements are now up for renewal it will be easy to force them out by agreeing to a higher rent."_

_Kurt shoved down the uneasiness he felt at the woman's flippancy, calming himself with the knowledge that the small business owners that probably resided in the area now were going to be compensated with more than enough money to move their business elsewhere. "And where do I fall in all of this?" Kurt asked, almost afraid to hear the response._

"_Well, we need someone to deliver the news, and to negotiate the settlement offers," Ms. Samuels replied, already seeming bored of the exchange. "Denise will give you the paperwork and the budget you need to stay within. The rest is up to you. I expect to sign a new contract with the building owner __by Monday, so please make sure to have everything completed by then," and with that Kurt was dismissed._

The other people had reacted calmly enough, seemingly aware of _Vogue's _plan to move. Some of them fought for more money, but Kurt was still managing to stay well within his budget. The Flatiron district was full of freelance artists and designers that owned the majority of the small offices in the area, and moving wouldn't be too big of a hassle. If Kurt had to guess, however, _Roxxy's_ would prove to be a different experience entirely.

**Westerville, OH 2012**

"What kind of crackpot institution are you running?" Cooper Anderson Sr. bellowed at the headmaster of his son's school, well former school. The aforementioned son was sitting in a chair by the door of the office, sitting with his knees hugged to his chest, willing away the tears that were threatening to spill. "I sent Blaine here to learn to be a man from what I thought was one of the finest institutions for boys in the country. I didn't send him here to become an even _bigger_ fairy," he spat, turning a violent, angry shade of red.

"With all due respect, Sir," the man tried to cut in, but Mr. Anderson would have none of it.

"I come here to pick him up for dinner to celebrate his brother's latest promotion, and I find him dressed like a goddamn go go dancer and singing vulgar pop music!"

"Mr. Anderson, we do our best not to stifle the..."

"Enough!" Mr. Anderson shouted over him once again. "I've heard just about enough from you. Starting tomorrow I want Blaine un-enrolled from here, and you can be sure that Dalton Academy won't get another dime from an Anderson ever again."

The Headmaster nodded, unable to do anything else. He tried to send a comforting smile to the boy still sitting quietly behind them, the tears that he had worked so hard to hold back were now spilling freely. The Headmaster's heart ached for the boy he had grown so fond of over the years. The few times he had had the misfortune of running into the boy's father, he marveled at how Blaine Anderson, lead singer of the Dalton Academy Warblers, and showman extraordinaire—loved by his peers and the faculty, and consummately kind and generous, could have come from such rotten parents.

Blaine had started Dalton in the beginning of his high school career, as his brother, father, and grandfather had before him. Back when the older generation of Anderson's had attended the school, it was known as a bastion of tradition and formality. Since then, however, the school had become a haven for the best liberal educators and administration Ohio, and possibly the country, had to offer. They still kept an air of tradition and formality, but a strictly enforced no bullying policy and a notoriously aggressive approach to tolerance education had made it what it was today: a safe space for students of all kinds.

In a lot of ways, it was the perfect place for Blaine. It had all the prestige, pomp, and circumstance that a blue blood family like the Anderson's required, and the right atmosphere to keep an openly gay teen in the middle of Ohio feeling safe and comfortable. Timing, however, had not been on Blaine's side that day.

Mr. Anderson rarely made occasion to come visit his son at school. The fact that it was a boarding school fit rather nicely with both father and son's desire to spend as little time together as possible. He did pop in once in awhile, though, usually to make a show of checking in on some over the top donation he had made, or to rub it in Blaine's face when his older brother had done yet another thing right.

It was for the latter reason that he had dropped in unannounced right in the middle of the junior Showcase, an annual fundraiser where the junior class raised money for the seniors to use for Prom and Senior Week. It was meant to be fun and silly, and students from Dalton and their sister school paid the admission fee mostly to see their friends make idiots out of themselves. It usually involved long skits that made fun of some of the students and popular faculty (always with permission, and in a good natured way), ridiculous costumes, and silly songs, and every year without fail, the Warblers had the show stopping performance.

Blaine had counted on stealing the show with his impressive vocals and diva dance moves. He had not counted on his father wandering into the auditorium and seeing him belting out Beyonce in leather pants and a pink feathered jacket.

Before Blaine or the principal could respond verbally to Mr. Anderson's declaration, he was pulling Blaine out of the office by his wrist, "w-where are you taking me? What are you doing?" Blaine yelped, following helplessly behind his domineering father.

"I'm doing what I should have done years ago," Mr. Anderson snapped back. "Starting Monday, you're going to go somewhere they can _really _teach you to be a man: military school."

And with those two words, Blaine _ran._

**New York, NY 2021**

Kurt wasn't sure what he was expecting to find when he walked into _Roxxy's_, but frankly the sign on the outside should have tipped him off to the fact that it was a store for drag queens...scratch that, a _thrift _store for drag queens.

Every rack, shelf, and surface was covered in bold outfits of every color and fabric. There were enough feathers and sequins to keep Cirque Du Soleil in costume for an entire year, and the walls were plastered with photographs of queens that had come through the store. If Kurt hadn't been on official business, it's the kind of place he would have loved to spend some time looking through, but as it was, the almost magical feel of the place made him more than a little uneasy at what he had to do.

"Can I help you?" a voice from behind him asked. Kurt whipped around to find a young boy (he couldn't have been older than seventeen), wearing a tank top that said "Roxxy's" in bold, glittery, red letters, and a nameplate that said "Janice" in loopy cursive. Kurt did a double take at the boy's face before realizing that the employees here probably went by drag names while on duty. "You look a little lost," he said popping his hip, and giving Kurt a once over.

"Oh...um...no," Kurt replied, cursing his awkwardness when he saw the teen raise his eyebrows in amusement, "I was just coming in to see if..."

"Devon, we have a first timer," the boy shouted gleefully towards the door in the back that was marked 'manager' in the same loopy script that was on Janice's name tag. The boy was smiling widely, but there was a teasing glint in his eye that made him a little nervous.

"No, I'm not a drag..." Kurt tried, but he was cut off by the manager who had emerged from the office.

"Yeah that's what I said my first time, but don't worry, we'll help you let your freak flag fly."

**New York, NY 2012**

"_I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies, like a tiger defying the laws of gravity. I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva, I'm gonna go go go. There's no stopping me," _Blaine sang his heart out, sending a wink to a woman that had dropped a whole dollar in his guitar case. He'd only been out here for a few days, but it had taken less than an hour for him to learn how far a little bit of charm could go in the art of busking.

It was all he had really: the guitar he had managed to grab from his room, his wallet, his now dead cell phone, the clothes on his back, and the Anderson charm that had catapulted him to the height of Dalton fame. His wallet and cellphone were useless now that he was spending his days busking in Central Park and his nights sleeping on the subway for warmth. It was april in New York City, and though he was grateful that he hadn't seen any of the month's famous 'showers' yet, it got _cold._

He would be the first to admit that this wasn't a sustainable lifestyle. Regardless of his well honed boxing skills and heightened ability to let petty insults roll off his back (thanks to his brief stint in the public school system for Junior High), Blaine was not what anyone would call 'street smart'. He needed to get himself a job and a place to live, and _fast._

"_I don't wanna stop at all," _Blaine finished out strong. He had been performing on autopilot for the majority of the song, but he checked back in just in time to notice a perfectly manicured hand drop a twenty dollar bill into his case. Blaine's eyes followed the hand in shack as it reached up to give him a light smattering of applause.

"You've got some pipes, kid," came an impressed voice, and it was only at that moment that Blaine found himself face to face with the owner of that hand. Standing in front of the, now dissipating, cluster of listeners Blaine had managed to earn was the most intimidatingly fabulous human being that Blaine had ever seen in person. "Can you talk with those pouty lips of yours or can you just sing?" the person asked sassily raising an eyebrow in a way that demanded an answer.

"I...oh...um...thank you!" Blaine finally choked out. He was still in the process of taking in his onlooker's appearance. He (?) was dressed boldly in a pair of stark white skinny jeans, a knee length black cardigan, and colorful printed scarf. His arms were adorned with a mess of gold bangles, and his face was fully made up, complete with an impressive pair of false eyelashes. "And thank you for your generosity. You have no idea how much it means to me."

The man gave Blaine another appraising once over before responding, "what's your name," he asked, daintily folding his arms across his chest.

Blaine started to panic slightly. This was the most anyone had spoken to him in days, heck he's barely made eye contact with anyone since the day he ran away from Dalton to escape military school. He felt shaky and unsure, and before he could think much about it he decided not to give this person his real first name, "Devon," he blurted out, "Devon Anderson." Okay, maybe his middle name wasn't the best cover in the universe, but Anderson was a common enough surname, right?

"Okay, I meant your real name, not your drag name, but I get it. You don't know me yet," the man replied with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Jesus Christ, this guy thought he was a drag queen. Blaine couldn't blame him really. He was still dressed in his costume from the _Diva _performance, and he was almost definitely still sporting some, albeit thoroughly smudged, guy-liner. "You don't understand, I'm not a..."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say," the man cut Blaine off. "Look it doesn't much matter to me what you are. What matters is that you've got a great set of pipes, and a killer look, and I'm a person that believes in second chances. And you, _Devon_," he said his name with a slight tease, but their was no malice behind it, "really look like you could use a second chance."

"Who...who are you?" Blaine finally managed to get out.

"Well I'm not telling you my real name unless you tell me yours," the man said. "but for now, you can call me Unique. Everyone else does."

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**New York, NY 2021**

"No, no, I mean I'm not here for pleasure," Kurt said, finally getting his bearings after taking in the startling appearance of Devon. His uniform was technically the same as Janet's (minus the fact that his name tag had the word 'manager' etched on it with his name), but he wore it with a sort of larger than life grace that Kurt rarely saw in real life. He was good looking for sure, lots of compact muscles bulging out of the tank top and the painted on jeans he was wearing. The smudge of eyeliner he wore and the electric blue thong Kurt could see peeking out the top of his pants added just a hint of perfect contrast and androgyny. "I'm here for business."

"What kind of business brings a cutie like you to our humble establishment," Janet asked with a bat of his eyelashes and an over exaggerated wink."

"Cool it, Jan," Devon said with a chuckle, pulling him backwards like a lioness might tug back her young pup. The sparkle in his wide, caramel colored eyes betrayed a familiarity that Kurt couldn't help but admire. There was clearly a kinship there. "Why don't you come with me into the office and we can discuss what business you have here," Devon said, gesturing for Kurt to follow him.

"See ya later, Sugar," Janet called after him, and Kurt didn't even to both suppressing his laughter.

"Is he always like that?" Kurt asked, taking a seat at the small desk across from Devon, once again trying to take in his colorful surroundings.

"He's always like that when a cute guy comes into the shop," he said matter of factly. There was no flirtation in his voice. He said it like Kurt's attractiveness was just an objective truth.

Kurt averted his eyes. Devon might have no problem telling a total stranger that he's cute without so much as a blush, but Kurt wasn't so lucky. His gaze fell on the largest of a cluster of framed pictures. "Is that you?" Kurt asked, partly in disbelief, and partly to distract from his embarrassment. He was pointing towards a photo of an older african American queen holding a younger one bridal style, both of them have their heads thrown back in laughter.

"Yeah, that's me and my drag mom after the first show that I headlined," Devon replied. "It was a crazy night. It's a good thing that I work, live, and perform in the same place, or I would never have made it home or to work the next day after that one," Blaine said, looking fondly over at the picture.

"Are you saying that you guys have more than just the shop? How much space do you guys have here," Kurt asked.

"This first floor is the shop, upstairs is the club, and the top floor is where a lot of us live. It's like a fashion house, but for drag queens," Devon said, with a laugh. "We put on a show every night but Monday, and then we take turns running the shop. It can get a bit crazy and dysfunctional, but we're a family so we make it work."

"You guys have your own show here" Kurt asked in disbelief. The task his boss had set out for him was seeming more and more difficult the more Devon spoke. "That's pretty impressive," Kurt had been to small drag shows before, mostly in college before work had completely taken over his life. That kind of performance had never appealed to him personally, but he certainly enjoyed watching it, and he could appreciate it as an art form. He firmly believed that fashion had no gender, and he liked mixing the masculine and feminine in his wardrobe, but dressing in drag had never been something he wanted to do. Devon made it sound like a lifestyle.

Devon nodded, amusement clear on his face, "it's taken about thirty years of building, but we've really managed to make a name for ourselves. I mean Roxxy's is still a little more 'Cleveland is Toasted' than 'Paris is Burning', but we definitely have a following here in the city, and the store is one of the most popular places to buy drag clothes. Queens hate repeating outfits, but closet space is scarce in Manhattan," he said. Kurt nodded his head in hearty agreement, "but enough about us, how much longer are you going to stay the cute mystery man, Mr. Business," Blaine teased.

"I...um...my name's Kurt, Kurt Hummel," he said, sticking out his hand and firmly shaking Devon's. "I'm a senior assistant for _Vogue_," he said, wondering how long he could put off his true motives. He's only known the man for a few minutes, but already the thought of turning those warm honey eyes cold made his stomach hurt.

"Well, well, well, color me impressed!" Devon said, a wide goofy grin on his face. "You can call me Devon, Devon Anderson. And what did we do to earn the honor of a visit by fashion royalty?" he asked.

Kurt thought it was a bit odd that he said 'you can call me' as opposed to 'my name is', but he laughed it off nervously anyway. Devon really wasn't going to make this easy for him. It was like he was charming the pants off of Kurt intentionally, "well you see, my boss...she sent me out on a project for the week," Kurt started to explain, the smile never faltering from Devon's face. "She's the Chief of Design, so when she gives you a job, you sort of have to do it...no questions asked," Kurt explained hoping that he could help soften the blow of what he had to do.

"I can totally relate. My drag mom is the same way," Devon divulged encouragingly, gesturing towards the photo they had talked about before. Kurt could agree that she looked like a formidable person, someone who wasn't to be messed with. "She's totally saved my life and whooped my butt into shape, though, so she's earned the right!"

Damn it. Kurt didn't know much about drag culture, but he knew what the word 'mom' meant, and there was really no way to use it in association with his boss. Kurt felt a little like he was going to throw up, "well you see...the thing is," Kurt said, fidgeting in his seat.

"What's got you so nervous, hon," Devon asked, sitting back in his chair and giving Kurt a once over. "I promise I don't bite...unless you ask me to," he said with a wink. _Shit, that really didn't help_. "What do you need from us? Photo shoot space, background models, trend spotting, day in the life..."

"Yes, that!" Kurt heard himself blurting out. He was really stepping in it now...

"Um...which one?" Devon asked, leaning forward on the desk, and cocking an eyebrow in questions.

Kurt gulped. This was the moment of truth. He could either confess his mission and never learn more about the bold man in front of him, or he could lie and possibly risk turning everything into a mess of epic proportions.

His mouth decided to make the decision before his brain did, or maybe it was his heart, "the uh...the last one...day in the life," Kurt said. He didn't know what to do, and committing to the lie seemed like the only option at this point. Roxxy's was obviously an institution. How could he bring himself to tear it apart? "I was sent to the area to try and do an article about drag fashion, but once I got here I thought it would be better to do a full profile, you know? Especially now that I know what an institution you guys are." Kurt could spend the day with Devon, get to know him, and then maybe if he got to know Kurt he might be more likely to take the generous sum of money to rebuild Roxxy's elsewhere.

"That...that would be amazing actually," Devon said. "My drag family means the world to me, and that kind of PR boost would mean the world to us. When would you like to start?"

Kurt would find out _very _quickly just how flawed his logic was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day Two: New York, NY 2021**

To: KHummel

From: JSamuels

Subject: moving Vogue offices

Mr Hummel:

We expect to begin packing our offices and moving next week. Please make sure that we are able to sign a building contract before the weekend as I've already instructed. I trust that if you have not obtained written consent from all current tenants already, you will do so immediately.

JS

To: JSamuels

From: KHummel

Subject: RE: moving Vogue offices

Dear Ms. Samuels,

I have received signatures from all of the current tenants with one exception. I am meeting the manager of the establishment for breakfast today, and I hope to have more information at that point.

Best,

Kurt

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The lie weighed heavily on Kurt's chest. He knew that he was just digging the hole deeper and deeper, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. Lying to his boss was surprisingly easy, but the way he was jerking around Devon made him sick to his stomach.

"Jeez, snap out of it!" Kurt shouted as he shoved his laptop and phone into his Marc Jacobs messenger bag. "You don't even know the guy, and you're future could be on the line!" he muttered as he sat down forcefully onto his bed to lace up his boots. His cat, Marion meowed loudly in protest, and leaped down to the floor, sulking away. "Great, now I'm talking to my cat," he added, rolling his eyes.

Kurt had been mulling the issue over and over in his head the entire night without much luck. He had even resorted to trying to call Rachel on Skype, but there was no answer. She was currently in LA doing a supporting role in a made for TV movie musical. She wasn't the huge star that she always dreams of...yet, but she was doing well for herself. It was in these moments that Kurt desperately missed his best friend. He had other friends in the city of course...ones that he loved dearly, but Rachel was the only one that wouldn't judge this particular brand of crazy.

At first he had convinced himself that the only way to minimize the problem was to come clean right away. He would take Devon out for lunch, tell it to him straight, and pray that the other man would understand, or at least not make a scene in a public place. He knew is was a long shot, but he just couldn't think of any other way around it.

But, the more he thought about it, the harder it was to convince himself to come clean. Something about the warm hazel of Devon's eyes and the unbridled enthusiasm he had for his work, his family really, made the thought of disappointing him incredibly difficult to swallow. So, he came up with a plan, and while in retrospect it was probably about as hair-brained as plans come, it was all he had. He figured that maybe, just maybe, if he wrote a story that was interesting, intriguing enough to his supervisors then he could kill two birds with one stone. He could save Roxxy's _and _he could finally get himself published in _Vogue_.

**New York, NY 2014**

"And here she is, Miss Devon herself, and give her some love, ladies and gentleman. This is her very first time headlining a performance," the crowd in the club cheered and Blaine's heart was practically pounding in his ears as he strutted onto the stage. It had been close to two years since Unique had taken him in and taught him everything she knew about life and performing. He started out as one of the waitresses and slowly worked his way up to having an act. Many of the queens there were known for dancing and putting on amazing lip syncing shows, but Devon was one of the few that could really sing, and the crowd _loved_ her for it.

"Well, hello gorgeous!" Tammy Michaels, the clubs emcee crowed into the mike, giving Blaine an over-exaggerated once over. "I love a girl in white pumps—sign of a true hooker," she added with a wink to the audience as she flounced off stage leaving Blaine alone...it was just Devon and the audience now.

When Blaine was in high school, he had always assumed that the ease he felt on stage was due to the music. Ever since he was a child he found that he could be easily entranced and relaxed by a melody and a good beat, but if his time in the drag world taught him anything, it was that he was just a natural showman (woman?). Stepping out onto a stage with a live audience was nothing short of transcendental. It was like being on another planet where his normal insecurities didn't matter. He wasn't Blaine, a gay kid that got kicked around by his homophobic family. He was Devon Anderson, Diva extraordinaire and superstar of the stage.

Where Blaine's hair was frizzy and only tameable by handfuls of gel, Devon had dark hair falling in perfect, wavy ringlets. Where Blaine was a bit scrawny with a bit of a bubble butt, Devon was curvy with an itty bitty waist and the perfect hourglass figure. Where Blaine could be a bit nervous and tongue tied, Devon always knew exactly what to say.

"Oh my god, this audience is _sexy _tonight," Devon's voice practically oozed into the microphone.

"You too!" some adventurous soul from the audience shouted out.

"Oh why thank you, honey," she shouted back. "You guys like my new outfit?" she asked, soaking in the appreciative shouts and wolf whistles as he flaunted his new, slinky blue dress . "Yes, well it's a new dress, but I'm hiding a secret underneath my skirt," she said with a overly-exaggeratedly coy smile. There were some laughs and 'ooo's' coming from the audience. "That's right. Even divas wear Spanx!" Devon shouted before sending a wink to the audience, pointing to the piano player, and wiggling her hips to start off her first number.

"_I know what boys like_

_I know what guys want_

_I know what boys like_

_Boys like, boys like me!"_

_0000000000_

**New York, NY 2021**

Kurt almost didn't recognize Devon as he walked into the brunch place the other man had chosen. It hadn't really occurred to Kurt that Devon might dress up slightly more flamboyantly for work, but it was immediately obvious to him when he saw him from afar, dressed in a neat, blue button down and well fitted jeans. He could still spot a bit of makeup rimming his eyes, but it could have easily been a product of less than thorough under eye cleaning. Though his shirt was tucked in, Kurt liked to think that Devon was sporting the same kind of underwear he had been proudly displaying the other day. Kurt also liked to think that he was way too classy to have thoughts like that.

"Hey!" Devon said happily, gesturing for Kurt to take a seat at the table, where a Bloody Mary was already waiting for him. "My real name's Blaine by the way. Sorry about the other day. I'm not supposed to use it when I'm on duty."

"Totally get it," Kurt said. "I thought this was supposed to be a business meeting?" Kurt asked, looking at the drink in front of him and giving Blaine a smile that betrayed any sternness he might have been trying to convey.

"Hey, who says you can't mix business with pleasure?" he asked with a little wink. "And anyway, Pounds and Ounces has the best brunch cocktails in the city. As far as I'm concerned it would be a waste not to enjoy ourselves a little."

Kurt took a tiny sip of his drink, appreciating the spice and brininess. It really _was_ delicious, and frankly he could probably use a drink to get himself through this week, "You're right. They are good," he said. "I've never been here before."

"It's one of our favorite places and it's not far from home which is great. They even started hiring some of our queens to perform during brunch on Pride weekend," Blaine said, opening the menu. "It was my first gig outside of Roxxy's," he indulged, closing the menu again quickly in a way that made Kurt think that he probably never needed to open it in the first place.

"Is Pride like Christmas for you guys?" Kurt asked, setting his own menu aside since he had made his selection.

Blaine laughed, "I mean if you spend Christmas having everyone and their mother asking you for pictures and slipping singles into your bra, then yes. It's exactly like Christmas," Devon replied, his wide smile never leaving his face.

"Oh," Kurt said, ducking his head and blushing in embarrassment. He should really learn to stick to the questions in his notebook. "Sorry, that was a silly question."

"No need to apologize, honey," Blaine said, patting Kurt's hand, which only made him blush harder. "I promise you that whatever is going to come out of our mouth this morning, I've heard worse and I've said worse. So please don't be embarrassed or think that anything you say will embarrass me," Blaine reassured him with a final squeeze to his hand before he finally let go.

The two were interrupted briefly when the waiter came to take their order, but it gave Kurt enough time to regroup and focus for the interview, "so I thought that we could just start with a few basic questions, and then we'll meet up again later so I can see the show?"

"Sounds perfect," Blaine said, taking a sip from his own Bloody Mary. "Ask away."

"Okay, well maybe we could just start at the beginning," Kurt said. "How did you get into drag in the first place?"

**New York, NY 2012**

"I'm sorry, you want me to put what, where?" Blaine exclaimed. He was about to start his first night as a waitress. He had been washing dishes in the back for a few months, but Unique thought he was finally ready to be out on the floor. She had paired him with a queen that was closer to him in age, but still had a few years of experience. "Does that even...work?"

"Girl, you better listen to me or you're going to be sitting on ice pack, and for christ sake, I know I'm hot, but tame that boner before I do it for you!" Shannon said poking him in the belly until he sat back down on the bed.

"Jesus, I can't help it. I've been touching my dick for the past twenty minutes. What do—HOLY SHIT," Blaine shouted. Shannon had just taken the ice water she was holding and pressed it against his balls. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Well, it worked didn't it?" she asked blinking her long false eyelashes at him, and gesturing to his now flaccid penis. It took Blaine some time to get used to how open everyone at Roxxy's seemed to be with their bodies, but he didn't really have the luxury of staying modest for long. This was the first time, however, that he had ever had to learn the 'art of tucking' as Unique liked the call it. Shannon had helped him with his makeup first, but he couldn't finish up and get dressed until he managed to put himself away, so to speak. "Now let's try it one more time. It shouldn't hurt if you do it right, and don't worry about making it too tight this first time. The underwear should be able to do a lot of the work, and you're wearing a fuller skirt."

Blaine huffed, but went for it again, finally succeeding in securing himself away and taking the underwear from Shannon's outstretched hands.

**New York, NY 2021**

"I think that's the point in the process every night when I really become 'Devon'," Blaine explained. "I mean in some ways she's just a character that I play like any actor or actress, but she's also definitely a version of myself. Sorry, it's a little hard to explain," Blaine said, smiling slightly, and hoping that Kurt would understand and find a way to put it into words.

"I think I get what you're saying," Kurt replied. They had been talking for almost two hours at this point, and Kurt felt himself growing more and more in awe of Blaine. And not just his lifestyle, but the man himself. He had faced so much adversity, but he came out stronger for it. He had almost started crying when Blaine told him about the day he first ran away from home, but Blaine assured him that it was a blessing in disguise. "So if I can backtrack for a second," Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded. "I just want to clarify something. I think it will help work out some of your previous statement. I'm having a little bit of trouble determining when to use what pronoun," Kurt asked, flipping back a page in his notes.

"That's an interesting question actually," Blaine said. He was surprised at how easy he found talking to Kurt. He was generally a pretty open guy, and he had never tried to hide himself or his past, but Kurt was basically a stranger. "The short, but unhelpful answer, is that it really depends on the person. Personally, as my friend, you can call me whatever you want really," Kurt hoped that Blaine wouldn't notice his internal celebration at being referred to as his friend. "I personally identify as a gay man in both gender and sex, but if someone wants to refer to me like they would a woman, then I take that as a compliment."

"And Devon is just...?" Kurt started, not exactly sure where the sentence was going, but Blaine seemed to understand.

"Devon is a character that happens to be a straight woman. I think it's important to remember, though, that drag queen is a profession and not a sexuality or gender identity," Blaine explained. "I know queens that do identify as trans, but most don't. When I refer to something I do as Devon I usually use 'she, her, and her's', but Blaine is a man with a full beard if I let it grow and a working dick, even if sometimes it's tucked into my butt," he said bluntly, causing Kurt to break into a fit of laughter that nearly cost him a bite of eggs.

"What about the tits," Kurt asked, still laughing a little. "Don't you ever wish those were really yours?" Kurt asked abandoning his notepad in favor of joking with Blaine.

"Of course they're really mine," Blaine replied. "I bought them."

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"Von, I haven't seen you take this long the beat your face since the time you opened a door into your eye and had a shiner as obvious as Shannon's Botox," Jessica Caliente, another one of the performers said, taking a seat next to Blaine to start getting ready. "You started like thirty minutes early."

"Hey!" Shannon shouted from the doorway. She was already tucked and in fishnets, but hadn't started on makeup yet. "Is that a read. It's barely 8:30."

"It's too early for shade, Jessica, and for nosy queens," Blaine said, sighing in false exasperation. "And anyway, I already told you guys that the writer for _Vogue_ is coming tonight. Of course I have to look extra fishy."

"Ooo, cute _Vogue_ boy is coming tonight!" Janet (or Doug as he was called now that he wasn't in drag or working at the shop) said, coming in behind Shannon. He was too young to work at the club, but Unique had taken him in much the same way that she had taken in Blaine, and he liked to hang around while the older girls got ready, chomping at the bit to be old enough to have an act of his own.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Yes, _Kurt_ will be here tonight, and he's writing about you guys too, so please be on your best behavior," he said. "This could be huge for Roxxy's." Blaine was happy to have grown into a sort of leadership role at the house. He was a store manager, and helped with some of the club promotion. Not to mention he was one of their three headlining acts. This is something that Unique trusted him with, and he was anxious to make his Mama proud.

"Well if you make sure to give him a good time during _and_ after the show then I'm sure the article will only bolster our sterling reputation," Jessica said cheekily.

"Ha ha," Blaine said sarcastically. "You're all very funny, but I'm afraid I have to tell you that our relationship is strictly professional," Blaine asserted. Cursing the way his cheeks reddened, his thoughts betraying his words.

"Sure you do, baby," Shannon said, patting his cheek. "You just let me know when you need an officiant for the wedding. I have a pant suit I've been dying for an occasion to wear."

**New York, NY 2013**

When Kurt thought about everything that had happened to lead up to the fact that he was finally about to move into an apartment in the city of his dreams, starting the internship of his dreams, and matriculating at the school that had recently become his dream, only one thing came to mind: 'I deserve this'.

Kurt considered himself lucky in many ways. He had a father who loved him to the moon and back, a step mother who was starting to seem like a real mother, a step brother who would probably take on an entire football team to defend his honor, and a tight knit group of friends who he knew would be there for him through thick and thin. Yes, he was definitely privileged in many ways, but a word he could not use to describe his life so far, was 'easy'.

He had grown up being picked on in school, and though it was incredibly unpleasant, and he couldn't count the number of fabulous outfits that were ruined by red dye number five, no slushie to the face could chill him as thoroughly as the thought of that fateful day his junior year when his biggest tormentor stole his first kiss from him.

After that day Kurt became withdrawn—a shadow of his former, formidable self. Kurt had always considered himself a fighter, but it's amazing how quickly the phrase 'tell anyone and I'll kill you' can change all that. It didn't matter that his father was becoming increasingly worried. It didn't matter that his friends had given trying to get him to leave the house on weekends. And, it didn't matter that he'd all but stopped singing. All that mattered was that, for all he had been through during elementary school and early high school, this was the first time that he had ever felt so utterly alone.

Getting him a job at Hiram Berry's flower shop had been his father's last ditch attempt at getting him out of the house and into a positive environment for the summer. Burt may not have understood what it was like to be a gay teen growing up in homophobic, small town Ohio, but he did understand that as a father, he needed to do whatever it took to take care of his son.

He knew how much it had helped him to meet other parents of queer teens when he started attending the monthly PFLAG meetings in Columbus. His hope, was that Kurt could benefit in a similar way from a positive, gay role model. It also wouldn't hurt for him to make some money somewhere that was more conducive to creativity than his shop. Hiram had become something of a mentor to Kurt in those few months of summer, and come fall, Kurt found himself applying to be a journalism student at his alma mater, Columbia.

So, here he was, moving into his very first apartment with Rachel with the help of her Dads. Burt claimed that he couldn't get coverage for the shop to come to New York with him, but Kurt knew that he wanted to let Kurt have this moment with Hiram. And anyway, he would be visiting in one short month for parents weekend.

Washington Heights wasn't exactly what Kurt had imagined when he dreamed of his glamorous New York life, but the price was right and it was extremely close to his new school. Kurt knew that it would feel like home in no time.

"Alright, kids, that's the last of it," LeRoy said, dropping down the final box. "We'll leave the arranging for you guy. I'm sure Kurt will have some strong opinions," he said with a smirk in the young man's direction."

"Yes, I'm sure you're both anxious to get us old folks out of your hair," Hiram chimed in, putting his arms on Rachel and Kurt's shoulders, "but we have just one more surprise for you guys. We wanted to send you off in style," he said, sharing a knowing smile with his partner.

**New York, NY 2021**

"They took you to Lucky Cheng's on your _first_ night in the city?" Blaine asked eyes sparkling with humor. "That's dedication."

"Yeah, it was a trip, but the Berry's never do things half way," Kurt explained. "It drives me crazy sometimes, but it's part of the reason I love them so much."

"They sound amazing. I hope I get to meet them someday," Blaine said, stirring his milkshake before taking another swallow. Kurt had been so excited after the show, that he had insisted on a post show interview at a diner down the street, and Blaine had eagerly agreed, always too buzzed from performing to go to sleep right away.

As was quickly becoming the norm, their 'interview' was much better described as a drawn out conversation about each other's lives. This was the first time, however, that Blaine was really getting to hear about Kurt's past.

Kurt's stomach did a small flip at the idea of Blaine meeting his oldest friend and his mentors. The suggestion that they would have a friendship outside of this experience filled Kurt with both elation and dread. The question mark about what Blaine would do if he ever found out the truth loomed heavily in the back of Kurt's mind. For the moment he decided that changing the subject was the best he could do.

"Seriously though, Blaine, there was no comparison. That was one of the best shows I've ever seen," Kurt gushed. "You looked fantastic up there, and your _voice_. I would totally buy the Devon Anderson solo album," he said, taking a large bite from his own sundae.

Blaine chuckled, "I'm not sure if that's coming any time soon, but I appreciate it, seriously," Blaine said, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. He had done an admirable job of removing all of his makeup. His signature smudge of black eyeliner still remained, but everything else was back to normal.

Kurt had managed to talk to him a bit after the show while he was still in drag, and honestly, it felt like he was talking to a completely different person. Kurt thought he had really caught a glimpse of what Blaine meant when he referred to 'becoming Devon'.

"So what's in the plan for tomorrow?" Blaine asked, slurping the last of his shake through the straw and licking the last of it off of his lips, the almost childlike gleam in his eye juxtaposing almost obscenely with the way he was drawing attention to his mouth. "I have a shift at the shop, but I'll be done well before tomorrow night's show."

"Well, I guess tomorrow I can finally see what the normal day to day at Roxxy's is like," Kurt said, smiling widely with excitement.

"Trust me, honey," Blaine replied, "Roxxy's is one shop with no standard operating procedure."


	3. Chapter 3

**Wednesday, Day Three: New York, NY 2021**

"Roxxy's _manages to accomplish all of the dive bar charm that I used to love about the small gay bar in Lima that I frequented as a 'rebellious teen', but has none of the crusty Ohio-ness. Make no mistake, the performers here have all the talent and panache of the better known shows, but none of the pretension._

_The fact is, the 'girls' at _Roxxy's _are a family, and when I was sitting at my table, enjoying the show, munching on fried pickles with spicy curry sauce, and sipping on a Dirty Shirley (hey, I was feeling nostalgic for high school), I felt more like I was in a stylish friend's living room than a New York City club—_I'm sorry why are you having me read this again?" Isabel paused her dictation. Kurt had frantically called her for a pre-work coffee meet-up, and she was now reading aloud from a rough draft of Kurt's article.

"I just...I just need it to be good okay," he said, absentmindedly stirring his coffee and gesturing anxiously for her to continue.

She gave him an incredulous look, but read on anyway. "_But honestly, the delicious food and cozy atmosphere would be nothing without the performances. The five girls doing the Spice Girls could have fooled even the most seasoned fans, and Unique's rendition of 'You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman' brought me to tears. The real star of the evening, however, was our host. Anderson, who performs under the name 'Devon', should probably be on a Broadway stage somewhere, but it would be a loss to the world of drag for sure._

_She started the evening with a steamy rendition of Alannah Myles's 'Black Velvet' and then made her way through an impressive repertoire of the best diva music of the last fifty years. Christina Aguilera's 'Fighter' and her medley of Whitney Houston songs were both highlights..."_

"It's not done, and I still have some more interviewing to do, but I think it will be really interesting, and it's not something we've really covered before, but really there's a _ton _of great fashion in their store, and it's really a shame that...,"

"Kurt!" Isabel shouted, effective cutting him off from his slightly crazed, run on sentence. "Honey, you know I think you're amazing, and the article is great. It needs some routine editing, and a bit more to round out the narrative, but I absolutely refuse to continue this conversation until you give me the whole story. What are you not telling me?"

Kurt slumped back into his seat. He wasn't surprised that Isabel had read him so easily. If he was honest with himself, that was precisely why he had called her in the first place. He needed advice, and he needed it from someone who understood his situation and would love him no matter what, "I think I'm either on the brink of my big break or an unparallelled mess," he said bluntly, chancing a glance away from his drink and towards his mentor.

She didn't respond right away, "I'm going to sit here and listen, and I'm not going to comment until you're done talking," she said calmly. "so, let's hear it."

Kurt wasn't sure if re-telling the story of his last couple of days was making him feel better or worse, but it definitely made him a bit more aware of the intricacies of his problem. Before it had been a jumbled, confused mess in his brain, and now it was all out there, ready to be analyzed.

"Cute boys make us do strange things, don't they?" Isabel said first, an amused glint in her eyes.

"Um...huh...what?" Kurt sputtered out, nearly spitting out the gulp of scalding coffee he had just taken.

Isabel laughed, "Kurt, if I hear one more word about Blaine's dreamy, beautiful smile, I'm going to ask you to take me ring shopping," she continued before Kurt could protest further. "I get it, and I didn't say it was a bad thing, Hon. I'm just making an observation. I think it's about time you found someone who's as fabulous and interesting as you. But, you can't start a relationship of any kind, be it friendship or something more, based on half truths. I know you know this already, but maybe you need to hear it from someone else," she added. "I'll...I'll probably get in trouble for saying this, but the Jane Samuels's of the world will always try to steamroll over places like _Roxxy's_, but you have a moral compass, Kurt. It's one of the best parts about you. I'd hate to see the cut throat side of the fashion world ruin that."

Kurt nodded his head, "I just don't know what I can do about it. Even if it wasn't _Vogue _I was working for, I still can't afford to be out of a job."

Isabel pursed her lips in concern, "I know it would be a step backwards for you, but you know that there's always a place for you at _ . _I love your piece, but I think we both know that getting Jane to run it _and _admit she was wrong to kick them out of their home is a long shot, verging on an impossibility," she said, giving his hand a squeeze over the table. "I could tell you to follow your heart, but you already know that. You need to think about what story you want to tell you future grandkids. Do you want to tell them that you were the youngest full time staff writer _Vogue's _ever had, or do you want to tell them that you saved one of the longest standing drag establishments in New York City?"

There was no question in Kurt's mind which one was the right answer for him. The question at this point, was _how_.

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"Hey baby," Unique was sitting at the kitchen table applying a coat of deep red nail polish. Even in her morning lounge clothes (a brightly colored kimono style robe and a hair wrap) she had a presence that befitted her role as the matriarch of the house, "sleep well?" she asked Blaine, who was pouring shredded wheat into a bowl and sniffing the milk to make sure it was still good.

"Pretty well," he replied. It was almost noon, but his late night at the club and then with Kurt meant that he took advantage of his afternoon shift at the store and slept in. "Could have done with a couple more hours, though."

"Can't we all," she said with a wink, "got a minute for an old queen?" she asked, pointing towards the seat across from her.

"I don't know about an old queen, Mama, but for you I have all the time in the world," he said, sitting down and taking a bite of his cereal, taking care to make sure the sugar side of the mini wheat was facing his tongue.

Unique chuckled, "so how's it going with that reporter kid?" she asked. "he gonna' do right by us?"

"I think so. He seems to be genuinely interested in the topic and doing the piece respectfully, so I think it will turn out well," he replied, taking another bite and thinking for a minute, figuring out what to say next. "He's um...he's really sweet."

Unique gave Blaine a soft smile, "sweet on you maybe," she said, waving her hands back and forth in an effort of dry her nails. "It's about time someone figured out what a catch you are."

Blaine dipped his head in a blush, "you _have_ to say that," he said, shoving an enormous bite of cereal into his mouth.

"You know for someone who makes such a beautiful woman, you can be quite the disgusting boy sometimes," she said, starting in on her other hand. "And you're right, I do have to say that, but it doesn't make it any less true. I know you're happy with you life here and no one is more proud of all the amazing work you do than me, but I think we could all handle things around here if you decided to find yourself a man, and I'm not talking about a kai kai."

Blaine laughed, "yeah, there won't be any of that from me any time soon," he said definitively. "It's just...I know I talk a big game, and I certainly know how to be sexy and confident when I'm on stage, but the truth is...I don't know what I'm doing. I've never really been anyone's...boyfriend."

Unique's eyes softened, "sometimes I forget how young you were when I found you in that park," she said, finishing up the polish on her last fingernail. "I'm not saying you run off and marry someone tomorrow, baby. Why not start small—like with a date?" she suggested.

"With Kurt?" Blaine asked meeting Unique's eyes again.

"No with the bus boy we just hired," she said rolling her eyes, "yes, with Kurt!" she said with fond exasperation. "Whether you choose to admit it or not, Blaine, you have a lot to offer someone. You're smart, you're strong, you've got a great personality, and to top it all off, you're cute as a button. Anyone who can't see that from Mars isn't worth your time," she said as she grabbed Blaine's hand to give him a similar manicure

"I guess I just...I wouldn't even know where to begin. You can't just go up to someone and say 'hey, you're cute. Let's have dinner.'" Blaine said, leaning his head on the hand that wasn't currently being painted.

"And why the hell not?" Unique asked. "In fact, that sounds like exactly what you should say," she said immediately before squinting down at Blaine's hand and swiping some polish that had gone below his cuticle. "I mean, what would Devon do?"

Blaine laughed again, "she'd probably straddle him and forget dinner."

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Unique replied, gesturing for Blaine's other hand and sending him another wink. "Just take whatever she would do, knock it back a few notches and there you go."

Blaine sighed, "you make it sound like it's so simple."

"It can be," she replied. "Think of it this way. If he came into the shop today and said just that. 'I think you're cute, and we should go on a date sometime', would you think it was weird—over the top—too much?"

"I...no, probably not," Blaine admitted.

"Well then that settles it," she said, screwing the cap back on the polish. "I expect a full report tonight before the show," she said, leaving no room for argument. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a bubble bath and an issue of Cosmo with my name on it."

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"I thought you said you weren't interested in doing drag?" Blaine teased, startling Kurt out of his inspection of a cream colored cowl neck sweater. They weren't due to meet in the store for another fifteen minutes but Blaine, and apparently Kurt, was early.

"You of all people should know that fashion has no gender," Kurt replied, eyeing Blaine who was back in his typical Roxxy's garb—tight purple jeans with his lacy underwear peeking out the sides and a Roxxy's t-shirt (hot pink this time). He wore it like an unofficial uniform.

"You're right," Blaine said, feeling the fabric of the sweater and looking back and forth between Kurt and the garment. "It would look cute on you...not that...well, everything kind of looks cute on you," Blaine said cheeks pinking slightly, but he couldn't back down now.

Kurt averted his glance a little at the compliment, but muttered a quiet, "thank you."

"So, uh...I was wondering. Do you maybe want to get some dinner tonight...with me?" Blaine asked, hope in his voice. "I don't go on until about eleven and I finish here at around six."

"Sure," Kurt said easily. "Was there more you wanted to talk about? I don't have anymore interview questions, but if you..."

"No, no, I mean like...like as a date," Blaine clarified.

Kurt stopped his inspection of the sweater and finally looked up at Blaine, "Oh," he said, eyebrows going up in surprise. "I...I would love to," he said, pleasantly surprised at Blaine's forwardness. He had spent most of the morning hemming and hawing over Isabel's observation and what he should do about it. He hadn't counted on Blaine taking the leap for him.

"Great, it's a date then," Blaine replied, wide grin on his face.

0000000000

Kurt agreed to have Blaine pick him up at his apartment. Blaine lived above Roxxy's and while it was a convenient location in terms of the plans Blaine had made for the night, it would feel too much like a business meeting for both of them to meet there.

"These are for you," Blaine said with a shy smile, handing a small bouquet of daisies to Kurt when he opened the door. "You look great."

"Thank you. They're beautiful." Kurt replied. "Come in. I'll just put these in some water, and then we can head out," he said, ushering Blaine inside and heading into the small kitchenette to get a vase. "You said we were having Italian?"

"Yeah, I thought we could go to Eataly. It's that big Italian market with all the restaurants in it, right by the park," Blaine said, taking a minute to look through the pictures that Kurt chose to hang on the wall of his living room. "My personal favorite is the pasta place."

"Pasta it is then," Kurt said, appearing at Blaine's side, "ready to go?" he asked.

"All set," Blaine said, hooking his and Kurt's arms together and leading him out the door.

0000000000

"Proseco?" Kurt asked as Blaine set two drinks down on the table. It was going to be a wait to get into the restaurant so Kurt and Blaine had opted to wait out their time by the bar. "How very celebratory."

"Yeah, well I feel like celebrating," Blaine said, raising his glass for a toast, "to first dates."

"To first dates," Kurt agreed tapping his glass against Blaine's, "so tell me, Blaine, what do you like to do when you're not killing it on the stage?" he said taking his first sip of the bubbly drink.

Blaine chuckled, "nothing too fancy," he said. "I've been boxing since I was a kid so I usually try to find time to go to the gym a few times a week."

"How very macho of you," Kurt joked, taking another sip of his drink.

"Yeah well, my life can't be all big hair and glitter," he teased back. "I lucked into this life. It was never really part of the plan as you know, so I still have some residual hobbies from my old life. Some macho, some...not too macho."

"Well, color me intrigued," Kurt said, a wry smile on his lips.

Blaine laughed, having predicted that Kurt might press further. "I've always really liked to...well I've always been fond of...scrapbooking," Blaine said hanging his head and blushing at the admission.

"Blaine, that's amazing!" Kurt gushed. "I love crafts. Why are you embarrassed?"

"I don't know, it's just a silly hobby," he said, smiling back at Kurt. His enthusiasm was infectious.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Kurt said, daring to reach out and cover Blaine's hand with his own. "I can already tell I'm really going to like that about you," he added.

Blaine turned his hand around so that he could link their fingers together, "well then, I'll do my best to keep surprising you."

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Kurt was over the moon. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun on a date. Frankly, he was pretty sure that no date he'd had in the past had ever come close. Blaine was...he was perfect—the very picture of a modern gentleman, and their conversation had been as easy as if they had known each other for years and not days.

He had such an amazing time on their date, that he had almost forgotten about the impending doom of what his boss was trying to do to Roxxy's...almost. It was always _right there_ in the back of his mind, niggling away at him and preventing him from fully relaxing and enjoying his time with Blaine.

Every sip of proseco, every bite of perfectly al dente pasta, and every squeeze of Blaine's hands in his own was shadowed by the dread that was continuously building in the pit of Kurt's stomach.

What was he to do? He'd already dug his hole so deep that it would take a near miracle to get him out of it. Even if he took Isabel up on her offer and left to go back to his old job, it wouldn't change the fact that Jane Samuels was planning to take over the building, and she always got her way.

He fell backwards onto his bed, sparing a glance at the flowers that were now sitting on his bed side table. He considered calling Hiram and asking him for advice, but what he really needed was someone who wouldn't gush over the date. He needed someone to tell it to him straight. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and held down the speed dial for his house in Ohio.

"Hey kiddo," his father's familiar, gruff voice came through the phone. "Why are you calling an old man this late at night?" he said, but his voice showed no actual irritation. Kurt knew that no matter when it was, his dad was always happy to hear from him.

Kurt laughed a little despite his stress. It always felt good to hear his dad's voice, "does a son need a reason to call his dear dad?" he asked cheekily. "Always so suspicious!"

"Out with it, kid," his dad teased. "I know that tone. That is not a 'I have nothing to say' tone."

Kurt let out a long breath. He might as well jump in headfirst with this one, "I just...I need some advice. I met someone," he said quickly. Waiting a beat to see if his dad was going to say anything. When he didn't he continued, "and I...I haven't known him for that long, but dad I...I think he could be someone special."

"I'm happy for you, Kurt," Burt said without pause. "I have to say though. I'm not sure what the problem is. You've never asked me for dating advice before."

Kurt took another deep breath, steeling himself for the rest of the conversation. He knew that his dad would never judge him, and that he would always be on Kurt's side, but he was still nervous about admitting to what he'd been up to over the last week.

Burt remained mostly quiet at Kurt recounted the story, only cutting in to tease Kurt about dating a drag queen ("I always thought you were into more macho men...like that werewolf boy you used to hang up on your wall."). He didn't say anything of substance until he was certain that Kurt had finished talking.

"I knew I liked that Isabel lady for a reason," Burt opened. "You've certainly managed to get yourself in the middle of a doozy this time, Kurt."

"I know," Kurt grumbled, his face half buried in his pillow.

"You know, I'd probably be giving you a lot more advice if I didn't think that you already knew what you had to do," he said pointedly, knowing his son always liked to make his own decisions and come to his own conclusions. He would seek advice, but in the end he needed to be in control of his own actions. "You need to decide what's more important to you. Either way, you need to come clean...and honestly, just because this is the first time your boss has asked you to do something you don't like, doesn't mean it's the last." he warned.

Kurt nodded his head even though he knew his dad couldn't see him, "you're right. I know what I have to do."

"Of course I'm right. I'm your dad," he said with a laugh. "Now tell me more about this Blaine," he said, settling in for a long conversation with his son.

0000000000

"Alright, I'm giving you full on gloating privileges, Mama, because that was the most spectacular date that anyone's ever had. I'm sure of it," Blaine said, dramatically bursting into Unique's dressing room. He was already stuffed into his red fishnets, his pads shoved haphazardly in his rush to talk to Unique.

"Girl, fix your stuffing. You look like a Picasso," she said, turning around and raising her eyebrows at that lazy job Blaine had done of dressing. "And I'm glad to hear your date went well because we might need your new boo to tell his fancy magazine to back the hell off."

Blaine bristled at the comment, "what are you talking about? I thought you said you were excited to have some press for Roxxy's, and I've read parts of Kurt's article. It was great. I don't see why..."

"I'm not talking about the article, Blaine," she said shoving a large chandelier earring into her ear and shaking her head in disgust. "I'm talking about the letter that I received this afternoon from our building manager informing me that they had been offered an extremely high rent to give our lease over to a new _Vogue _office, and unless we're prepared to match it we need to start moving out to allow for their construction," she said, tossing her lip stick back into the makeup box.

"But...but they can't just _do _that!" Blaine cried, completely unprepared to cope with all of this new information. He was still buzzing from the high of his date, and suddenly his mood was coming crashing down around him. "We've been here for years. Surely they can't just end our lease the second something better comes along!"

"They can, and they will. We have our lease agreement in five year chunks. This five years is up. It's always been a simple process of renewing the contract in the past, but I guess..." Unique trailed off and slumped back down into her makeup chair. "I guess times are changing."

Blaine scrubbed a hand over his face. He almost felt numb from the news. He knew that deep sadness would probably hit him in full force later, but for now he he felt anger and indignation churning in the pit of his stomach.

He knelt down next to Unique in the chair and wrapped his arms around her, "We're going to fight this," he said, eyes steely. "I'm going to talk to Kurt, and if he can't fix it, then I'll go to the _Vogue _offices myself. I don't care if I have to chain myself to the building, I'm not letting Roxxy's go down...at least not without a fight," he added quietly.

"You're a good boy, Blaine," she said squeezing him back. "If anyone can do it, you can. You always were the smart one," she said, a glimmer of her usual spark finally returning


	4. Chapter 4

**Thursday, Day Four: New York, NY 2021**

"I don't know what this is, Mr. Hummel, but just on a first glance I can tell that this isn't a building contract," Jane Samuels said cooly, raising the coffee that Kurt had brought her to her painted lips. Kurt couldn't help but cattily think to himself that the overdone manner in which she did her makeup made her look ironically like a drag queen.

"I can explain," Kurt started.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel why don't you explain," she said eyes growing slightly more cold. "Explain to me why you seem to be incapable of completing one of the simplest tasks I've ever given one of my assistants. Explain to me why after three days of 'work'," she said using finer quotes, "all you have to show for yourself is a lazy attitude, a complete unwillingness to follow directions, and a six page article that, having only read the title, appears to be about drag queens."

"Really if you could just read it—even just the beginning, I think you'll find that—."

"I think _you'll_ find that I don't take kindly to cleaning up other people's messes, and that I refuse to have someone on my team who doesn't do as they're very specifically told," she said, cutting him off.

"Well then," Kurt said, returning her glare in full Kurt Hummel force, "Then I guess you don't have me on your team," he said snatching his article back and standing up from his seat. "I quit," he said forcefully, "and trust me, one way or another I will have my article printed somewhere, and I don't think the general public will be happy to hear what their favorite fashion magazine is doing to one of the longest running and most well loved performance establishments in the city," he said, voice full of conviction.

He didn't give her a chance to respond before turning on his heel and walking swiftly out the door.

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"Sorry I'm late. It's been a rough morning," Blaine said rushing into the coffee shop where he was supposed to meet Kurt.

"Tell me about it," Kurt groaned in agreement.

"Bad day, too?" Blaine asked sitting down and taking a grateful sip of the coffee that Kurt had bought him. "I guess it's just one of those days."

"Something like that," he mumbled, thinking to himself that his day was about to get much worse.

"Well, maybe helping out a friend in need will make you feel better," Blaine said, hoping to segue-way into his plea for help. "And no, before you ask, none of the girls are pregnant," he said trying to lighten to mood before such a heavy subject.

Kurt laughed lightly, not able to bring himself to respond in a more hearty manner, "who's in trouble?" he asked.

"Well...all of us actually," Blaine said. "It seems that we're running into a issue with our lease. Some department from your magazine is trying to buy us out for offices, and I was hoping that since you work there you might be able to help."

"Use to," Kurt said squeezing his eyes shut before looking at Blaine again. "Used to work there," he said, taking a shuddery breath when he saw Blaine's surprise. "I quit this morning."

"What?" Blaine replied. "Why?"

"Let's just call it a dispute over bulldozing a long established store and drag club for a set of new offices," Kurt said bitterly, looking forlornly into his almost empty coffee mug.

Blaine just stared at him, unsure how to take what Kurt was telling him, "you knew?" he finally asked. "What...when were you planning on telling me? Don't tell me you only found out this morning. Moving an entire office building isn't something you can do last minute," he said, doing his best to remain calm and non-accusatory.

Kurt looked tiredly into Blaine's eyes. He knew there was no easy way to do this. Blaine had been nothing by sweet and open with Kurt, and he had returned his kindness by being sneaky and untrustworthy. The look that he could see breaking out on Blaine's face was heart wrenching. Kurt's silence spoke volumes.

Kurt took another shaky breath, "I've known since Monday," he said quietly. "I...I was sent to Roxxy's to get you to agree to a settlement contract so that we wouldn't have to go into a bidding war over the space, but when I actually got there I..."

"You _what, _Kurt," Blaine cut him off. "You thought you would play around with us first? The silly queens, who don't know any better, getting taken advantage of by some hot shot _Vogue_ employee? Is this how you always operate? You write articles on the people you're trying to crush, make them trust you—and then drop the bombshell? Do you always go out on dates with them first?" he nearly shouted, ignoring the glares he was getting from the people around them.

"Blaine's please it's not like that!" Kurt cried, realizing that the situation was quickly spiraling out of control. For the second time that day he found himself desperate to explain himself, but how do you explain to someone that you were too much of a coward to give them the courtesy of the truth.

"I _liked_ you Kurt. I really liked you," Blaine said, anger quickly morphing into hurt. "I thought we were..."

"I like you, too," Kurt said desperately, "I swear to you that this has nothing to do with me I just got caught up with this terrible boss and things got out of control, and I wrote the story because I really believe in Roxxy's. That's why I quit!" he added.

"Well I'm glad you got to have your little moment of protest," Blaine said, folding his arms across his chest. "I hope it makes at least one of us feel good."

"What?" Kurt replied, "Blaine, of course I don't feel good. None of this feels good to me, but I...I promise. I'm going to fix this. I...I have a plan."

Blaine just shook his head, "I really wish that I had any reason to believe you, Kurt," he replied.

"Blaine, I'm going to prove to you that you can trust me," Kurt implored. "Just give me a day. I promise."

Blaine just continued to stare back at him, "I honestly don't know what to believe, but I can tell you that I really hope you're right," he said. "I truly hope you're right because Roxxy's isn't just a store or a club. It's not just a place where people work or sometimes live. Roxxy's is a home. It's my home and it's my family. And it has always been a safe place for kids to go when they feel different. So, I hope for my sake that you're not bullshitting and that you have some sort of magical trick up your sleeve to save this place, but even more I hope so for the sake of all the young people who are going to find themselves in need of a place like Roxxy's in the future," Blaine added.

Kurt remained silent, certain that the last thing Blaine wanted to hear right now was more pleading. He only spoke up when he saw Blaine gathering his things and getting ready to leave, "so you're just going to go? Just like that," Kurt asked, voice thick with tears that were threatening to spill.

"See the thing is, Kurt," Blaine said, only stopping for a moment, "I hope you have a real plan, but I seriously doubt that anything that comes out of your mouth is true," he said. "So I have a protest to plan."


	5. Chapter 5

**Endless and enormous thanks to my Betas kellyjo562 and Sylvia for their help with this story, and Munchingonzebras for her beautiful art. Info on where to find the art is at the bottom of the story.**

**Friday, Day Five: New York, NY 2021**

It didn't take much for Blaine to rile his friends and co-workers into protest mode. When he got home from his terrible coffee meet up with Kurt there was a final notice from the building, telling them they needed to start the process of moving out immediately, in the mailbox, and it was with that document in hand that he had gathered everyone into the store for an emergency meeting.

They all knew that it was a long shot, but as Blaine had already told Unique, there was no way they were going down quietly. If they were going to take down Roxxy's, they were going to have to take down the staff and as many fans as they could gather with it. All it had taken was a post to their Facebook fan page to have at least three dozen people gathered outside the doors with signs and enthusiasm for the cause.

Blaine wasn't sure how long the zeal would last, but for the time being it was comforting to know that they had support. Blaine knew in his heart that they would find a way to go on. They could move downtown with the rest of the drag clubs or find another unique location to build their business again, but it would never be the same as their cozy three story building in the flatiron.

As for his relationship with Kurt, if you could still call it that, Blaine really wasn't sure what would happen. He had been receiving text message after text message from the man since leaving the shop, and even a few voicemails, apologizing over and over again and stressing that he was doing everything he could to find a solution.

Blaine wasn't a naturally cold person. In fact he was typically easy with his trust and forgiveness, so he couldn't help but admit that on some level, he knew that Kurt's apologies were genuine. He believed that the man was sorry and that he was trying for a solution, but he couldn't get it out of his head that he had been knowingly lying to him for four days, looking him right in the eye and acting like there wasn't an enormous tragedy heading his way by the end of the week.

Blaine sighed and walked outside to join the group that was already gathered in front of the store. He couldn't think about this right now. He had more than enough on his plate, and making a decision on the future of his friendship with Kurt would have to take a backseat to the more pressing issue of saving his family.

He was overwhelmed by the support they were getting. On the side walk, tthere was a crowd of fans and supporters all in various states of drag, some full on, and some just showing their support with some extra glitter and lipstick. It would have been the party of the year if it weren't for the reason that they were all gathered there.

Blaine recognized a few faces as regulars at the club, and of course all of the girls that lived and worked at Roxxy's were there riling the crowd. Blaine knew the general idea: make enough of a fuss that they got the attention of the media and try to shame Vogue into reversing their plan to take over the building, but it still seemed so messy in Blaine's mind. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing by raising a fuss or if he should be concentrating on mitigating the inevitable.

He just wished that he had a plan. He was Blaine Anderson, confident and self assured, and always in control. 'Blaine Anderson' was not someone who worked well with spontaneity. But out here with his eyeliner newly applied and his favorite hot pink thong sticking out proudly from beneath his skin tight jeans, he could be a little bit more Devon than Blaine. So, he did was Devon would do, and hand cuffed himself to the building.

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Kurt had a plan. And, for the first time all week, he was was pretty sure that it was a good one. In between calling and texting Blaine obsessively to try and win his forgiveness, Kurt had called Isabel and let her know that he was ready to give his story about Roxxy's to , but with a few important edits. Not only would he highlight the amazing place that it was, but he would tell the story of their fight to stay open. Though he wasn't sure how many people would read his article online, he knew that the website had a far broader reach than the physical magazine, and it would be available in an instant.

Isabel had assured Kurt that she would run the article in the morning when the website traffic was the highest and also send the link to as many media contacts as she knew and could rely on to support their cause. He had also left a message for Ms. Samuel's warning her of the impending media blitz in the hope that it would cause her to at least delay the process, but he hadn't heard anything.

Kurt looked out the window and frowned when he saw that it was beginning to rain. He realized that the weather meant that it was even more important for him to implement the final stage of his plan. He needed to join Blaine and the rest of the Roxxy's family out on the street to unequivocally support them in his cause. He didn't blame Blaine for ignoring his phone calls, if for no other reason than his more than full plate at the moment, but he was going to talk to him no matter what it took.

It had been a long time since Kurt had put on makeup. He used to use it to cover his acne in high school, and he had worn stage makeup when doing a few community theater productions, but he had never been able to rock it with the casual grace that Blaine seemed to. He figured that if he was ever going to have the chance to try it out, this was it. Not to mention, if he was going to win back Blaine's trust, he had to commit one hundred percent.

He decided to take a page out of Blaine's book and swipe his eyes with a smudge of black eyeliner before slipping on his favorite pair of skinny jeans and a tight black vest. He looked at himself in the mirror and appraised his new look. He didn't think he would make it an everyday thing, but he did appreciate the way the makeup made him look. So, with one last glance at his reflection, he gathered his things and left his apartment for Roxxy's.

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If he was watching it as a movie instead of living it, Blaine might have appreciated the drama of the fact that it was now raining. As it was, however, it was severely thinning the crowd that had come to support them to the point where it was mostly just the people who worked for Roxxy's. And, the construction manager who had come to take stock of the place before making plans to re-build, who was now standing there hoping that _Vogue _would still pay him by the hour.

It turned out that, while the initial excitement of protesting had been thrilling, sitting handcuffed to the building was actually quite boring, and it had the unfortunate side effect of way too much time alone with his thoughts. Kurt was dominating most of them. It was a little astonishing how profoundly Kurt was affecting him after only five days. He hadn't met someone who had captured his attention quite so intensely and quickly before.

The fact remained, though that he still wasn't sure how he wanted to proceed. No matter how much Blaine had liked him, he still didn't really know him that well, and in the brief time they had known each other he had already caused an enormous breach of Blaine's trust. There was no way he could make a decision with so much turbulence going on in the other aspects of his life at the moment, he would have to wait for the next time he could actual sit down with the other man and talk.

Just as he was resolving to put Kurt out of his mind for the time being, he saw a tall, slender figure approaching the storefront out the the corner of his eye. He heard his fellow queens react to him before he saw him for himself.

"Well, you have a lot of nerve showing your face here after what you've done," he heard Jessica spit out.

"Did you wake up today _hoping_ to get your eyes clawed out," Shannon added, folding her arms and giving Kurt a death glare, the likes of which Blaine had never seen before on his sweet (if occasionally sassy) friend.

"Don't, guys," Blaine said, just loud enough for them to hear him. "Just...just don't. Things are bad enough around here without starting any more drama," he turned to Kurt, taking in his appearance fully for the first time. He cursed himself for allowing the familiar warmth, that he had come to associate with the other man, to bubble up inside of him. He took a deep breath. He didn't know what would happen between the two of them, but he did know that now wasn't the time to start a fight, "nice look," he finally said.

"Thanks," Kurt replied, side eying the other girls and wondering if it was safe to continue. He decided to just go for it. He had come down here for a reason, "I...you have to know Blaine. I am so unbelievably sorry for keeping this from you. I promise I've been doing nothing but trying to buy you guys more time since I quit the other morning. It's all I can think about," he blurted out.

Blaine sighed and looked down to his lap, "I know."

Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise, "what do you mean?" he asked, confused by Blaine's reaction.

"I said I know. I know you're sorry and I know you're trying to help us. You said it in all of your messages," Blaine said, gesturing with his free hand for Kurt to sit down. He turned to face Kurt and looked him in the eye once he was sitting beside him. "I'm not ready to forgive you fully—not yet, but...but I think that soon I will, and for now, I'm not too proud to accept help. We can use as much of that as we can get," he said, reaching over and squeezing Kurt's hand briefly. Only pulling away when he heard a sudden click and saw a bright flash out of the corner of his eye. "What the..."

"Sorry, I just had to capture the moment!" a woman with a large camera and a press badge said. The embroidery on her raincoat said _Huffington Post_. "I'm Sarah. I'm covering your story for the _HuffPo_," she said without much preamble, pulling out a tape recorder and a note pad.

"I'm sorry, what?" Unique finally spoke up. She had been mostly quiet over the past couple of days, but this, she couldn't ignore.

"The _Huffington Post_?" she replies with a smile.

"Yes, I know what the _HuffPo_ is," she said, slight irritation in her voice, "but that doesn't tell me how you found out about us," she said, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"I mean, the same way everyone else found out," she said, also becoming confused, and gesturing to two reporters from other organizations that were now making their way from separate directions to the storefront of Roxxy's. "There was an article in _Vogue_ this morning. It's sort of gone viral," she said matter of factly.

"It was in _Vogue_?" Jessica questioned, confused. Kurt for his part was sitting quietly, but a large smile was threatening to cover his face. His plan was working.

"Well, I mean, , but a lot of people were touched by your story and they want to see you live on as an organization.

Blaine heard another camera go off on the other side of the group, but he would leave the press to the other girls. He had more important things to take care of, "you did this," he said, turning to Kurt in disbelief—not sure how to work through the churning swirl of emotions that were dancing through his body. "I can't believe you actually did this."

"Of course I did," Kurt said earnestly. "I promised, and I swear Blaine, I never plan on breaking a promise to you ever again."

0000000000

By dinner time, the girls of Roxxy's had spoken to no less than twenty members of the press, and the new _Vogue _office development (and Jane Samuels especially) had received enough bad PR to last for years. But, Blaine was getting frustrated. Ms. Samuels still hadn't returned any of Kurt's phone calls and they hadn't heard anything from the magazine itself. As far as everyone knew, they were still planning to move on with the contract as scheduled. Not to mention, that it was still raining steadily.

"It's all going to be okay," Kurt said after a long bout of silence. "It...it just has to be."

Blaine turned to face him more fully, "I don't know, Kurt," he said, tone flat. "We tried, but it might be too late," he added. "Maybe if we had known sooner..."

"I know!" Kurt cried, "I know, okay. I know I fucked up, but please Blaine I'm doing everything I can to make it up to you. That has to count for something!" Kurt nearly shouted.

Blaine sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated," Blaine said softly. "I know you're trying, and I appreciate it, but I've been wearing the same outfit for two days, I'm soaking wet, and I'm pretty sure I saw a rat when I was sleeping here last night," Blaine said hanging his head. "And I know I love the smoky eye look, but this is just sad," he added, pointing to the dark ring of eyeliner that had dripped down his face from the rain.

Kurt looked back at him sympathetically, losing his edge, "for what it's worth," he said, "I think you still look as cute as ever." Blaine gave him a small smile and Kurt pulled a moist towelette from the pocket in his messenger bag, "may I?" he asked.

Blaine nodded and Kurt began to gently wipe the makeup off of his eyes, leaving him a clean canvas to re-apply. He pulled the liquid liner from his bag and began gently re-doing Blaine's face, "thanks," Blaine said softly.

"You're welcome," Kurt replied, letting his hand linger slightly longer on Blaine's face. "I went with the waterproof kind for this occasion specifically," he joked, "There you go—camera ready," he said rubbing his thumb across Blaine's cheek.

In that moment, it didn't matter that Kurt had made a mistake when they first met. It didn't matter that he was smelly and sweaty and sitting on the sidewalk with two day old clothes. And, it didn't matter that he was surrounded by his drag family who were sure to make things awkward for him. All that mattered was that Kurt was here, and he was supporting Blaine and Roxxy's with all his heart. Without sparing a second thought, Blaine began to lean in, sights set on finally having his first kiss with Kurt.

It was both a blessing and a curse that Blaine and Kurt were interrupted during a serious moment for the second time that day, "excuse me, which one of you is Wade Adams?" said someone who had just walked up to the group, effectively shutting down Blaine's attempt at a kiss.

"Thad?" Kurt said, tearing his eyes away from Blaine to see his old co-worker. "What are you doing here?"

The man looked abashed, "I um...when you left...they um...they promoted me. I'm the executive assistant now," he said. "Do you know which one is Wade Adams?" he asked, changing the subject quickly, "I have a message from Ms. Samuels for the owner of the place."

"That's me," Unique said, walking over to the newcomer, her eyes daring anyone to say anything about the use of her given name. Thad, to his credit, didn't question it. "But anything you can say to me, you can say in front of them."

Thad looked around, seemingly appraising the situation. He must have decided it would be okay because he took out an envelope from his pocket, "she wanted me to tell you that she's prepared to offer double for you to back down quietly. I have the check right here if you'll sign the contract."

"It's not about the money. This is our home," she said stoically. There were nods and shouts of agreement from behind her.

"She said you'd say that," Thad sighed, probably upset that he wouldn't have good news to return to his new boss. "Then she wants to give a counter offer."

Unique raised her eyebrows, "a counter offer?" she asked, cocking her head as a gesture to keep talking.

"_Vogue_ owns a few apartments down the block from here. If you're willing to give up the housing quarters for our offices, we'll let you keep your store and the club," he said, puffing his chest, obviously proud of his new position.

Unique looked back and forth between her family and Thad. Slowly nodding her head in agreement. "I accept," she said calmly, only sparing a glance to Blaine who gave her a tiny nod in understanding.

There was a quiet gasp from the small crowd which slowly erupted in a subdued cheering. It wasn't a complete take down of 'the man', but it would do, and Blaine had an enormous grin on his face as he allowed Jessica to unlock the end of the handcuffs that were attached to the building.

"I'm so proud of you," Blaine said, throwing his arms around Kurt. "We couldn't have done it without you!" he said, too excited to notice at first that Kurt wasn't smiling completely. "What's wrong?"

"I...I'm sorry. I should be excited for you guys," he said, a more modest smile spreading across his face. "I just...I really wanted to win this one for you, stick it to Jane Samuels once and for all."

"But you did win. We all did," Blaine replied, taking Kurt's hands in his.

"The boy's right, hon," Unique said, coming up behind them both and pulling them into a group hug. "It's not about winning. It's about family, and as long as we can stay a family, it doesn't really matter where we live," she said, planting a kiss on Blaine's wet hair, and walking away to leave the two men alone.

"Plus," Blaine said, turning back towards Kurt after watching Unique's retreating form, "we got each other out of all this."

And with that, Blaine finally pulled Kurt in for that kiss.

**You can find the amazing, wonderful, stupendous art for this piece now as the icon for the story. Also, I'm planning to write an epilogue, but I'm not sure when that will happen as I'm trying to get my game face on to finish up **_**After Ellen**_**. Also, I've been working on a Blaine/old lady next door fic that should be up soon called **_**Three Times Blaine did Something for the Little Old Lady Next Door (and one time she did something for him).**_

**Love you all! Thanks for reading!**

**Love, Amanda. (Come say hi on tumblr: mspracticalamanda)**


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